


Parallel Anxiety 101

by jabedalien



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Body Image, Canon Autistic Character, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Established Relationship, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Therapy, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jabedalien/pseuds/jabedalien
Summary: This got sort of heavy and focuses on Jeff having anxiety and anxiety in general. There are mentions of intrusive thoughts in particular that could potentially be triggering so if you aren't comfortable with that please mind the tags and warnings. It's sort of all over the place since I had a really hard time finishing it and jumps around a lot but I really wanted to post this before I moved on to happier, fluffier things :)
Relationships: Abed Nadir & Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir/Jeff Winger
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	Parallel Anxiety 101

**Author's Note:**

> This got sort of heavy and focuses on Jeff having anxiety and anxiety in general. There are mentions of intrusive thoughts in particular that could potentially be triggering so if you aren't comfortable with that please mind the tags and warnings. It's sort of all over the place since I had a really hard time finishing it and jumps around a lot but I really wanted to post this before I moved on to happier, fluffier things :)

“What the hell happened in here?” Jeff asks as he steps into the study room. 

There’s a huge space cleared for what looks to be a photoshoot, with Annie and Britta on opposite stools tacking a sheet to the wall, illuminated by spotlights. 

“It’s for my photography class!” Britta explains excitedly, dropping her corner of the backdrop and fumbling to catch it. 

“She’s gonna take pictures of all of us!” Annie adds.

Annie smooths out minuscule wrinkles on her skirt, then her flyaway hairs, then applies lip gloss in a little mirror she grabbed from her purse. In the reflection she looks confident, sure of herself. At some point over the years she’d gotten that look about her, steely-eyed and determined. The sort of person who sees what they want and takes it, who looks into that compact mirror and _knows_ they look good without having to hear anyone else say it, even though they would. Jeff doesn’t know where to categorize the pang of jealousy.

“It’s gonna be great. I’ll take some of you guys too, y’know, cute ones. For as long as they’ve been dating, they really don’t have any pictures together.” Britta says, more to Annie than either of them.

“You’re right!” Annie says back. “I never really thought about it before but that’s so true.” 

Abed shrugs and pulls a notebook out of his bag, flipping it open to the middle in front of him. Jeff takes the opportunity to follow Abed’s lead and grabs his phone from his pocket, hitting buttons with heavy, intentioned clicks while Britta and Annie’s attention turns back to each other.

“Whatcha got there?” Jeff asks after a minute, peering over his phone to a page of circles Abed seems to be studying intensely.

“Nothing important.” Abed mumbles. 

He’s tracing along the words with the dulled tip of his mechanical pencil. When he feels Jeff’s eyes he pauses, clicking the eraser three times, then adds a little spaceship to the margins.

“Are you actually focused on that or just trying to look busy?” Jeff asks with his knowing edge.

“Look...busy” Abed answers under his breath as Annie passes by the table. He draws a heart on the page and shades it in. “How’d you know?”

Jeff flips his phone around to show a screen open to his texts with Abed, and an unsent message that appeared to be ten lines of gibberish and random emojis. “Me too. Wanna get out of here?”

“Sorry Britta, would love to be a part of your thing but we’ve gotta go.” Jeff says, standing up from the table. 

“Really guys?” Britta asks. “I mean I can use everyone else but don’t you—“

“Maybe another time. I left something at Jeff’s apartment. Something really important.” Abed says, pulling the terrible lie from god knows where.

But Jeff’s found that Abed works very well under the assumption most people have that he never lies or can’t for some reason. He tells a few hard truths, stumbles through a few shitty lies that Jeff comes to suspect he’s trying to get caught in, and all together it buys him more immunity than most of the group thinks.

“Um, alright.” Annie says back. She looks confused, but also not entirely sure she wants to ask any questions. “See you guys later.”

Abed’s bag is packed, zipped, and on his shoulder in a blink. They walk out together, Jeff trying desperately to calm his shaking hands until he jams them into his jacket pockets. He finds his breath in the parking lot, to the rhythm of their footsteps together on the pavement. When they finally get in the car, Abed practically lunges over the console to kiss Jeff.

“Easy, tiger.” Jeff laughs. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Thanks for leaving with me.” Abed says back, pulling away with a blush across his cheeks. Jeff chases Abed’s lips with his own to steal another kiss before settling back in his seat. He grabs Abed’s hand but his palms are sweaty so he lets go, wiping them on his pants before trying again. Then he realizes maybe it’s Abed hands.

“So why did you want to leave?” Jeff asks.

“You first. It was your suggestion in the first place.” Abed replies, his free hand reaching to the top button of Jeff’s shirt and undoing it.

“But you were the one who got us out of there.”

Abed’s fingers stop after one button. Jeff’s got half a Pavlovian response to Abed taking his shirt off, but right now it mostly just makes the thing feel less like it’s trying to choke him.

“Fine.” Abed says. “I— I just don’t like having my picture taken.” 

“Oh thank _god_.” Jeff sighs. “Me neither.”

“You don’t?” Abed asks incredulously. 

“Not at all. I don’t think I would’ve gotten through that without leaving for the bathroom to be sick.” 

“I probably wouldn’t have either. I have no clue what I actually look like and I’m not in the business of finding out.” 

“Oh I know what I look like,” Jeff laughs. “Every inch. And pictures just immortalize it. All the blemishes and carbs and bad hair days and yellow teeth. Speaking of, should I be whitening them more? They look yellow today.”

Abed turns to Jeff and dutifully inspects his teeth. 

“Nope, white as ever.” Abed reassures.

“Sorry, that might be my thing this week.” 

Abed gives him a little nod of acknowledgement and squeezes his hand. He knows sometimes Jeff cycles through insecurities, trying to erase the worry lines from his skin and the gray hairs from his scalp and asking Abed if he thought he had weird fingernails. They’d consume him until they were replaced by something else, then cycled through at will.

“I didn’t really think anyone else hated pictures like I do.” Abed says. “I always sort of thought it made me a freak.”

“Then I’m a freak too. Or maybe everyone else is and we’re the normal ones.”

“They did seem way too invested in us having pictures together. I just don’t really get how that makes us a couple.” 

Jeff shrugs in agreement. “It doesn’t.”

“Also, what faces am I supposed to be making?” Abed adds, half ranting and half a genuine question. “Smiling’s hard enough, then there’s all that fake-candid shit.”

“Britta _loves_ that shit.” 

“So we don’t have to take pictures?”

“I thought ‘You can do whatever you want, you just have to know what that is’ was your thing?”

“You’re right.” Abed says, like he’s trying to make himself believe it.

* * *

“Jeff!” Abed called out excitedly from a display. “This is _perfect_.”

“Jeez, you two are gonna have a field day with this one.”

“I _know_. It’s kind of expensive but we can all chip in for it and give it to him together. And it should be okay, cause we’re really doing it as an _event_ , that just so happens to be on his birthday and also Shirley’s making a cake. And we’ll definitely keep them afterwards. For the dreamatorium and movies and this one thing we made up called xenon nine piranha battles, and—“ 

Abed’s bouncing on his heels, hands moving in front of him faster than Jeff’s eyes can follow as he details his plans for the laser tag set in a huge box in front of them. 

“—and the Dean would definitely let us play at school if we let him sign his name on the card. So do you think it’s a good idea?” Abed finishes breathlessly. 

“It’s a great idea, he’s gonna love it.” Jeff grins.

The shine of Abed’s eyes was brighter than ever, and Jeff fell in love with him for the tenth time that day. He cares so much, about everything, pours his heart and soul into it all until there’s no room for Jeff’s apathy to wedge itself in. 

“Also, you should really give him one of your sport coats.” Abed says.

“If Troy wants a jacket for his birthday I can buy him one.” Jeff says. “I mean I know I’m on a teacher’s salary and all, but I hope I’m above gifting my friends my used clothes.”

“Well blazer tag isn’t the same if we aren’t wearing _your_ blazers.” Abed explains. “That’s half the fun.”

“Since when did blazer tag involve taking clothes from my closet?”

“Since we made it up.” Abed says nonchalantly. “I get them dry cleaned.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” Jeff says.

A beat after the words leave Jeff’s mouth, one of the employees glances up from the t-shirts he’s folding and meets his eyes. If looks could kill, Jeff would be dead on the floor. It’s dripping with disgust and superiority, punctuated with a “ _say something, I dare you”_. He’s taken aback as the happy little moment he was clinging to is shattered, but mostly it just feels deserved. A reminder that he’s wrong for finding so much joy in this, in _him_.

Jeff isn’t ever sure how often they get recognized as a couple when him and Abed go places together. They didn’t go out to dinner for dates, mostly due to their mutual disdain for the mortifying ordeal of eating in public. But as little as Jeff wanted to admit it, for him it was also the feeling that suffocated him sometimes when he could watch people’s faces as they figure out they aren’t just friends in real time. He felt all the love that had been spilling over burn into shame that filled his lungs with black smoke. One look, with an unspoken insult that Jeff could feel ringing in his ears anyway. 

Other people could go be proud of who they were, and Jeff was proud of them for it. Abed, the rest of his friends, celebrities, people he sees on the street or driving cars with rainbow bumper stickers or whoever lives in that house three blocks from his apartment with a flag waving on the porch. But not him, with his insides all twisted up at the reminder he was disgusting and _wrong_ in a lot of ways, but this one in particular.

“Hey Jeff, can we get going?” Abed asks, sounding just as deflated as he felt, and he wondered if Abed had noticed as well.

“Yeah, we can find this cheaper online anyways.” 

On their way out the door, Abed grabs a hold of Annie’s hand and pulls her along with them with a surprised noise. When they’re in the main path of the mall, neither of them say anything, and Annie’s looking between them with furrowed brows.

Abed’s wearing a look Jeff has come to recognize as the one he has when he’s holding himself together by the stitches, hands twisting around themselves and his eyes darting around in every direction, wide with fear.

“Do you wanna go home?” Jeff asks. He wants to hug him, hold him tight to his chest in the way he likes, the one that calms him down in moments like this, and Abed’s eyes are begging for it, but he can’t, not here.

Abed gives him a short nod and stands close enough as they’re walking to brush his shoulder against Jeff.

“What’s wrong?” Annie asks as they near the exit “You’re both acting… really weird. Is this some special Jeff and Abed thing I’m missing?”

“I’m sorry.” Abed mutters. “I got way too excited, and these two women saw, and they were whispering, and I could just _tell_ they were trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. Like everyone always is, ‘cause I can’t just go somewhere and act normal. I get wrapped up in my own world like a little kid. It’s stupid.”

Jeff’s literally seeing red, it’s clouding the edges of his vision, and he feels the urge to turn back around, his own humiliation be damned, to yell at some people until they told him why they thought they had a right to even _look_ at Abed. 

“I’m so sorry, Abed.” Annie says as they get into the car. “You weren’t doing anything wrong in there, I promise. People need to just mind their own business.”

“If I would’ve known…” Jeff sighs. “Actually, it might be for the best that I didn’t. Getting thrown out of there would have been pretty interesting, though.”

“If you didn’t know, then why did you want to leave too?” Annie asks.

“Well I told Abed I loved him and someone overheard and—it’s really dumb. He didn’t even say anything, there’s no reason for me to be upset. Just gave me the kind of look that reminds me what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Abed and Annie say at the same time, and the tension in the car seems to break a little when they all chuckle.

“Thanks guys.” Jeff says. “I know that in theory, but it actually being true feels sort of fake.”

“Listen, you’re two of my favorite people in the world, and there really is nothing wrong with you. Either of you. You’re the most loyal, loving friends anyone could ever ask for, and you’re great with each other. So I have to ask, why are you two basing your self-worth off people you saw in a store at the mall?” Annie says, leaning forward into the gap between their seats.

“You’re actually kind of right. This isn’t even the good mall.” Jeff says. 

“Yeah!” Annie agrees, desperate to latch onto any flake of positivity. “You’re never gonna see those people again. They don’t know you guys, and they’ll never get the chance to. Which is their loss. ”

“Thanks Annie. That guys’ only marketable skill is folding clothes. I do that for free in my house every day.”

“Abed doesn’t fold his clothes.” Annie interjects.

“I do too. At _least_ one time a month.” Abed shoots back. “The piles work just fine.”

“If we ever live together that’s gonna have to change.” Jeff says.

“Don’t think so.”

“Fine, I’ll fold your clothes for you.”

“Deal.” Abed says, and his glow seems to have come back. Jeff’s heart skips at the thought that it came from him mentioning their hypothetical future together. 

* * *

Jeff looks down at his phone one more time, rereading the text where Abed says he’ll be there in ten minutes before throwing it onto his bed and turning back to his dresser. He avoids the mirror, considers putting on a pair of jeans before realizing he doesn’t want to know whether or not they’ll fit. He digs up a pair of sweatpants instead, and throws a Greendale shirt on, the soft one Abed likes to sleep in sometimes.

When he does catch a glance of his reflection he considers getting changed again, trying to decide if it’ll be more or less noticeable if he puts regular clothes on. Then spends a while looking up at the ceiling until suddenly he has to tense every nerve in his body to stop himself from crying. He fails at that too, shaking between shallow breaths and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Before he can come to a conclusion about getting changed, or cancelling entirely, Abed’s knocking at the door.

“Hi Jeff.” Abed grins as Jeff swings the door open, wrapping his arms around Jeff’s neck and kissing him on the cheek. He’s got a soft, floaty air about him today, and the way he says Jeff’s name rings perfectly in his ears.

Abed’s only wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and as Jeff lets him in he walks straight through the apartment to Jeff’s bedroom. When he gets there he shucks his pants off and leaves them on the floor before throwing himself onto Jeff’s bed in his boxers. Jeff stands back for a second, admiring him from the doorway as he finds the remote and switches on the tv. It’s like a miracle, how he so casually steps into Jeff’s life, makes himself right at home, like it’s never been a question of whether or not he belongs there.

Abed brings his immutable, indescribable energy and lights up all the corners of Jeff’s apartment that were dark and suffocating five minutes before. He’s reflected in the mirror, flapping his hand with the usual joy that came with the theme song to any of his favorite shows. He looks up at Jeff expectantly, waiting patiently for him to join, and he’s perfect in every way Jeff can count. It tugs at his chest how _obvious_ it is that he doesn’t deserve Abed, could never be good enough for him. Christ, everyone they knew had to see it, even if Abed didn’t.

Jeff finally gets on the bed and Abed latches onto him immediately. He wraps his arms around Jeff’s waist and rests his head on his stomach, and Jeff’s trying not to think about the fact that he feels _wrong_ that Abed’s done this so many times before but now he’s _different_ and that Abed’s about to notice that.

“Is this alright?” Abed asks when he feels Jeff tense under him.

“Yeah, you’re good.” Jeff says, cracking a smile, even though it isn’t quite alright when Abed squeezes his arms around him.

“I’m in a touchy mood, sorry.” Abed says back. “And you look nice today.”

“Really?’ Jeff asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, you’re cozy.” Abed answers, nuzzling his cheek against Jeff like a cat. “And you smell good.”

“Hey Abed?” Jeff says after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve uh, gained weight. Since we started dating.”

Abed turns and looks up at Jeff with something like fear in his eyes. “Okay.” He mutters, like he’s psyching himself up. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe.” Jeff says. “Unless you don’t want me to.” He adds.

“I do.” Abed corrects quickly, the fear jumping out again. “I just—I know this kind of stuff is hard for you. And I’m not exactly good at comforting people, so I don’t want to say the wrong thing and make everything worse.”

“You’re better at comforting me than anyone else.” Jeff says back. “And you make everything better.”

For a moment, Abed is seeing their position in a different light.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” Abed asks, already half-pulling away.

“It’s okay.” Jeff answers before he can move. He thinks he might fall apart if Abed lets go.

Abed gives him a small smile. “Well I love you no matter what you look like. But I love you the most like this. When you’re not dressed up and you didn’t do your hair.” He reaches up and runs a hand through Jeff’s hair to emphasize the last part.

“Did you notice?” Jeff asks, then can’t decide if he wants to know the answer or not.

“Not really.” Abed says. “Now that you say it, maybe. But I love you and I think you look good like this.”

“Abed.” Jeff says back, feeling defeated. He feels guilty for even bringing it up, for putting Abed in a position where he has to lie to make Jeff feel better when he hates lying. “You can be honest.”

“I would never lie to you, Jeff.” Abed whispers. “I don’t care if you don’t have a six pack. I never will. I mean you’re okay with how I look.”

“Of course I’m okay with how you look Abed, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Cause I’m not attractive?” Abed answers, like he’s stating the obvious.

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” Jeff asks. He’s laughing a little until he sees Abed’s blank face.

“You get told how ugly you are enough times growing up and you start to realize they’re just stating the obvious.”

“I don’t know how anyone could ever think that.” Jeff says back. He isn’t sure if he’s ever been one to have a “type” but if he did, it’d just be Abed.

“You’re also one of the only people who’s seen me shirtless without telling me I’m scary looking.”

“I have seen the way Shirley acts around you sometimes.” Jeff admits.

The day after Annie lost her pen, Shirley brought Abed muffins for breakfast and brownies to every study group meeting for weeks. Abed had tried to eat whatever she gave him, because he knew she did it out of worry and honestly, her baking was pretty great. But he could hardly ever eat more than a few bites without feeling sick, and then she only seemed more disappointed by him not being able to finish anything.

She’d done similar things to Jeff too from time to time, but it was never quite the same. Part of Jeff thought Shirley figured she had more of a right to parent Abed in that way than she did with him. Or maybe Jeff was just better at giving her dirty looks.

“Yeah.” Abed nods. “It’s a little overbearing, but I can’t really blame her when I look like this. It makes people think they need to babysit me.”

“Do I do that?” Jeff asks.

“Sometimes you ask me if I ate that day, but I don’t mind that, cause most of the time I really did forget.” Abed says. “And if it did bother me I’d be telling you off for it.”

“Don’t I know it, pretty boy.” Jeff smiles.

“You don’t have to say stuff like that to make me feel better either. It’s alright.”

“I say them because they’re true. You’re objectively pretty, love. I wish I looked like you.”

He looks up at Jeff with raised eyebrows. “That’s stupid. I wish I looked like you. I’d even take like, just your nose.”

“I like _your_ nose.” Jeff says, reaching out to touch the tip with his pointer finger, which makes Abed chuckle.

“It’s bumpy and huge.” Abed protests.

“I think it’s perfect.” Jeff answers. “And I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. About wanting to look like you. I try not to think about it, cause I know it’s fucked up to be jealous of you like that, but—”

“But sometimes you are?” Abed provides.

“Yeah. Sometimes I can’t choose between loving you and wanting to have sex with you and be yours forever or just… _being_ you.”

“Would it make you feel better to know I’m the same way?’

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.” Abed says. “Of course I wish I was like you, turning heads every time you walk into a room, because of how you look, definitely, but also how you act and carry yourself and understand everyone, how you know what to say to them, the way everyone just knows you’re a leader. I’m not that kind of person, never have been, I’m the one on the outside who gets listened to when the plot needs it but mostly stays quiet. And that’s okay, but I still wish people looked at me the way they look at you sometimes.”

“You’re more of a leader than you think.” Jeff replies after a pause. “And people looking at you isn’t exactly enjoyable.”

“Are you okay?” Abed asks in a quiet voice.

“I’m fine.” Jeff answers without thinking. It’s a question he’s used to being surface level, when he should know Abed won’t take that as an answer.

Abed’s hand bunches in his t-shirt. It pulls the fabric the slightest bit around his skin and Jeff can’t look. “Don’t lie. Are you eating?”

Jeff scoffs and rolls his eyes. “ _Clearly_.”

Abed’s eyes look more horrified than anything when he turns them to Jeff. He’s pretty much the king of taking jokes too far, but he’s never seen Abed so upset about something he said, and it knocks some sense into him. Reminds him that there’s a reason why he wants to work _through_ this stuff rather than just around it like he has his whole life.

“Please, Jeff.” Abed pleads.

“I’m sorry.” Jeff whispers. “It just… it scares me.”

“What, are you afraid you’re gonna end up on my 600 pound life?”

Jeff gives him a short, serious nod and the little smile fades.

“Okay, now I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jeff sighs. “It’s a really, really stupid fear.”

“Jeff, remember that time I made you get McDonald’s with me cause that’s all I was in the mood to eat, then they put mustard on my burger and I cried?”

He laughs a little. “Yeah, how could I forget?”

“Well you still hugged me, and gave me your drink so I could get rid of the taste, and went back to the drive through window so they could fix it. Even though it was utterly stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, it’s just _you_.” Jeff answers. “And I love you.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“ _Oh_.” Jeff mutters. “I really hate when you’re right.”

“So how about I promise you I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen? And you can just focus on being healthy and happy and eating every day.”

Jeff’s hand tightens on Abed’s shoulder. “It just makes me really anxious.”

It wasn’t often that Jeff talked about his anxiety, at least in certain terms like this, with the actual word and everything, and Abed’s never sure how hard he should push the subject, or in what direction.

“Do you know what it is? That makes you anxious about it?” He tries.

“Everything, I guess.” Jeff sighs. “Having to make food and then actually like, put it in my mouth and swallow it. People thinking I’m ugly and talking about it when I’m just out of earshot. _You_ thinking I’m ugly. You finally realizing I’m disgusting and breaking up with me.”

Abed kisses Jeff over his shirt again. “You’re not disgusting and I definitely won’t break up with you. And I could never think any of those things about you, Junebug. I’ll always think you’re the hottest person ever.”

“Ever?” Jeff smiles.

“Yep. No matter what you look like. Cause you’re you.”

Jeff looks down at Abed’s head resting on his stomach, and cards his hands through waves of black hair. “You put up with so much more from me than anyone else ever could.” He says.

“That isn’t true.” Abed says back. “And if it was, it’s more than even considering how much you put up with from me.”

“The only thing about you that I have to put up with is your incessant need to save me from myself.”

“Me too.”

* * *

“I’ll be back in an hour or so, if you just want to hang around.” Jeff offers, plucking his car keys from the nightstand.

Abed looks up his cocoon of blankets on Jeff’s bed and grins. “Sounds good, I’ll stay right here.”

“See you soon.” Jeff says, placing a kiss on Abed’s exposed cheek.

“Thanks Jeff. Love you.” Abed says quietly as Jeff leaves. He isn’t quite sure what Abed’s thanking him for, but it makes his insides fuzzy anyway.

Jeff drives ten minutes to the small building, checks in at the front desk and is called into Rita’s office before he even has a chance to sit down in the waiting room.

“How are you doing today?” Rita asks with her patented bright smile as soon as he sits down on the couch. On most people Jeff would find it cheesy, but she wears it well.

“Good, I think. I talked to Abed about some of the stuff we went over last week.”

“Do you think that went well?”

“Yeah, definitely. He made me feel a lot better about it.”

“What do you think made you feel better?”

“He promised he was still attracted to me, and didn’t think I was disgusting or anything like that. And that he loves me for more than how I look which I haven’t ever been able to believe from someone before. But I think Abed just _gets it_. In a way I didn’t think anyone else could. We’re scared of the same things, I guess. People say we’re a lot alike, when you take a real look at us.” Jeff says the last part with a little bit of pride. Being like Abed always feels like that, even if they’re not being compared for the best of reasons.

“What kind of things are you both scared of?” Rita asks, tapping the back of her pen against the clipboard.

“Getting our picture taken, food, other people, being sick, our friends secretly hating us, identical twins that dress in matching clothes and finish each other’s sentences. The last one isn’t nearly as important. But there are other fears I have that he can’t help me with. And those are the worst ones.”

“Why can’t he help you with them?”

“They’re _about_ him.”

Rita doesn’t say anything, just waits for him to elaborate.

“Well I used to break all my toys as a kid, throwing them down the stairs and playing with them till the arms snapped off, then I spent most of high school blacking out and fighting in parking lots, like I’ve always been rough around the edges, and on most of my insides. And he’s this spindly little thing, so gentle with everyone, with _me_ , and no one’s ever been gentle with me before, and— I’m just afraid I’m gonna break him like I break everything else.”

“What do you mean by break him?”

“I sometimes... I don’t know how to explain it, but it terrifies me. Probably more than the drinking and not eating and any of the other things I do that scare I myself with. But I just see myself killing him. He hardly even struggles, cause he trusts me, and I swear I don’t _want_ to do it but what if I _do_ , right? Like what if something snaps in me, cause I’ve already got enough broken parts, and what kind of person am I that I can even _picture_ doing something like that—“

“Jeff, do you know what intrusive thoughts are?” Rita cuts in before he can spiral any further, tears welling up in his eyes. 

He shakes his head, trying to wipe his sweaty palms on the couch cushion. 

“It’s exactly what you described,” She says slowly, waiting for Jeff’s breathing to steady before continuing. “Thoughts that you don’t want pop into your head, and they scare you, understandably, but all the energy you spend fighting them off is exactly what keeps them coming back. But thinking of those things doesn’t mean you want to do them. If anything it’s the opposite.”

“—You’re not gonna lock me up?” Jeff asks, half-disbelieving.

“If I thought you were truly going to hurt yourself or someone else we would handle it. But Jeff, I really don’t think you do.”

“I don’t.” Jeff whispers. “I promise I don’t but I can’t make it _stop_.”

“You’re scared of hurting him, one way or another. And your head’s got a not-great way of telling you that. But not every single thought has a deep, significant meaning to your psyche. Sometimes they just come and go, and we have to let them. You love him, right?”

“That’s the only easy question you’ve ever asked me.” Jeff says quietly. “I know I do, and I think that’s what scares me the most. I’ve never felt this way about someone before. And I never will again. So I can’t hurt him.”

Rita had only ever met Abed once in passing. Jeff’s car was in the shop and Abed had insisted on driving him rather than just skipping that week like Jeff had planned to. What he wasn’t expecting was to leave her office to see Abed with a book in the waiting room, so absorbed in it that it took Jeff calling his name twice for him to look up. She’d seemed happy to put a face to the name Jeff mentioned a hundred times a session, Abed was pleased to have gotten through the interaction with minimal awkwardness, and that was that. But Jeff thought of Abed in that chair, content to wait as long as he needed, every time he came back here. 

There was something in the way he looked at him in that moment that stuck to Jeff, and he carried it in from the waiting room every time since. Usually Abed looked _through_ Jeff more than _at_ him. This wasn’t something Jeff minded, in fact it made him feel less scrutinized, less watched than he did by other people, and it brought a level of comfort to existing around Abed. He didn’t think Abed would be quite the same without the unfocused stares, faraway looks that give no evidence to all the gears turning behind them. But in that moment in the waiting room, Abed met his face readily, gave him that close-lipped smile that Jeff couldn’t quite read until he’d gotten up and crossed the room in a few long strides. When he got close enough, it seemed hopeful.

“I guess it’s hard to explain when you don’t know him. Impossible, maybe.”

“From what you’ve told me, I’m sure I’d like him.” Rita smiles.

“You’d love him. Everyone does.”

* * *

“Hi honey, I’m home!” Jeff says as he opens the door to his bedroom, where Abed’s still wrapped up in the comforter.

“That was a really perfect reference.” Abed says back.

“Thanks, I was thinking about it for the whole car ride home.”

Abed opens up the blanket and Jeff joins him, huddling close so it fits around both their shoulders. “How was therapy?”

“Pretty good, actually. Can I tell you about it?”

“Of course.” Abed answers.

So Jeff takes a deep breath and starts to talk.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! this was hard to write and I really hope I presented these things in a sensitive/relatable/accurate way. That being said, these are entirely my own feelings and experiences and I don’t want anyone to think they’re the end-all-be-all of anxiety, asd, or anything else.
> 
> Also, I needed a therapist name and it seemed like the right time for a penumbra reference so,,,, RITA!!!
> 
> And not trying to disrespect retail workers with that joke! its purely a self burn as i work in retail and folding clothes is my only marketable skill.


End file.
